by Olivia Miles
This was her safe place. Her and Ethan’s place. Where they’d laughed and cried, though mostly laughed. They’d first come here two years ago, when Ethan was writing an article on the River North nightlife scene. With its candlelit tables and warm wood tones, it was both cozy and inviting. It was a special place, considering she had only ever come here with her best friend.
Ethan had promised to arrive early in the hopes of securing a coveted table on the roof deck terrace which opened from May through September. Seeing no sign of him at the big, loud bar, Claire wound her way to the staircase at the back of the room and hurried up them, the warm sun at the top landing promising a pleasant summer evening, but even the thought of a blood orange margarita did little to boost her spirits. Her heart felt heavy as she reached the last step and hovered at the edge of the concrete deck, the Chicago skyline climbing high around her in all directions.
Her eyes swept to the right, and then the left, reflexively searching for Matt. He’s not here, she scolded herself firmly. With any luck you’ll never see him again.
She marched forward, looking for tousled brown hair, crinkly hazel eyes, and a smile that made her feel like she was home even though she was nowhere near it and didn’t even know where home was anymore.
From her periphery, she caught some movement—Ethan’s arm was raised high, gesturing to catch her attention, and her shoulders sank in relief when she caught his eye. There. Everything would be better now. She’d tell him what happened. She’d shed a few tears. By the end of the night, they’d be joking about it. All that heartache would be forgotten, or at least put on pause.
“Have you been waiting long?” she asked, as he stood to meet her and give her a quick hug, their usual greeting.
“Long enough to get another call from Marla,” he said wryly, dropping back into his chair. His shirt sleeves were casually rolled and his sunglasses were neatly folded on the table. She eyed his drink—half finished. Possibly not his first.
Claire thought hard. “Remind me again who Marla is.” But she knew. Marla was one of many girls that had walked through Ethan’s revolving door.
“Marla is the one I met at that charity thing last weekend,” he said, reaching for his beer.
“Ah, yes. The kindergarten teacher who took down her online dating profile after you invited her to dinner the next night.” She rolled her eyes. Why these women fell for Ethan never ceased to amaze her. Sure, he was cute, with those twinkling eyes and that wide smile, and he certainly knew how to put on the charm, but in the three years she had known him, she had yet to see him get close to any woman. Well, other than herself.
“Tell me,” Ethan said, leaning eagerly across the table until Claire could see the faint dusting of freckles across his nose. “How much clearer do I need to be? They all make it sound like I’ve led them on. I don’t lead women on.”
Claire picked up her menu and then set it back down. She’d been here enough times that she didn’t need to skim for something new. She knew what she liked. What made her happy. On a warm June night, that margarita would be just the trick. She might even have two or three, considering the day she’d had.
Her chest felt tight again just thinking about it.
“You don’t lead women on,” she confirmed, and Ethan fell back in his chair, casually grabbing his drink on the way, seeming satisfied. “But, you do break a lot of hearts.”
He shrugged. “But I never promise anything. If they get their hearts broken, it has nothing to do with me.”
“Except maybe it does. You’re charming. You make them feel special. You’re cute . . .enough.” She gave him a cheeky smile. “You know what you’re doing. You know what you’re getting into with these women.”
“A night of fun, maybe more than one night. Sure. But I don’t promise them anything,” Ethan pointed out, setting his beer back on the table.
No, he didn’t. Unlike someone else she knew.
“I ran into Matt today,” she blurted. She blinked at Ethan, and was rewarded by the knit of confusion between his eyebrows.
“But—”
“You thought he’d moved? Turns out he’s been in Chicago all these months. He never left.” Hot tears threatened to spill if she blinked again, and she snatched the napkin, damp from condensation, from under his beer bottle.
“Stop. You need a drink.” Ethan signaled to the waitress, who caught one glimpse of his smile and hurried to their table, barely registering Claire’s existence. He ordered a blood orange margarita for her without even asking, and another beer for himself. “Okay,” he said when they were alone again. “What happened?”
“He came into the store,” Claire said, trying to discreetly dab the corners of her eyes. “To buy . . .an engagement ring.” Just saying the words made her chest ache.
“The bastard,” Ethan said, and despite herself, Claire burst out laughing.
“He is a bastard,” she agreed, grinning as a tear escaped and wove a path down her cheek. She wiped at it with the back of her hand, as more followed.
Ethan pulled back in his chair and hooked an ankle over his knee. “Seriously, though, Claire, I don’t why you should be upset. The guy was a jerk. He left you with no job, no apartment—”
“I know,” Claire said, and she did, rationally speaking. The other part of her, however, still longed for him. For the time they’d shared. For the plans they’d made. For the life she thought they would have together.
“But you are upset,” Ethan observed. “Why? You’re young, pretty; you should be out having fun. Instead, you’re sitting here crying on a beautiful summer evening. Although, is it technically spring? It is, I believe.”
“It is still spring,” Claire agreed. But summer was just a week away. She’d thought by summer she’d be in a better place. With a good job, a great new apartment, maybe even a new boyfriend. Instead, she was still broke, still homeless, and still single.
And still crying over Matt.
“I don’t even have a place to live. Hailey was so excited when I got this job. I know she doesn’t say it, and I know she’s my cousin, but she wants me out of that apartment. It’s a one bedroom.” A small one bedroom. A one bedroom with two closets to its name, to be exact.
“You could always move in with your dad,” Ethan said, and again, Claire laughed.
When her mom had passed away a year and a half ago, her father had surprised everyone by selling the family home and buying a condo in the Florida Keys. When Claire visited him, she’d been surprised to discover that he’d developed a passion for shuffleboard and Bingo night in the retirement village’s recreation room. It had pained her at first, but at least she knew her dad wasn’t lonely.
She was the lonely one. Not that she’d be worrying her dad with her troubles. “Maybe I’ll go visit him,” she said pensively. “When I have enough money saved up.” Her eyes welled up at that thought and she started crying harder, aware of Ethan’s disapproving frown across the table.
“Matt doesn’t deserve these tears,” he said in that matter-of-fact way of his.
She knew he was right, of course he was right, but when did reason ever have a place when it came to matters of the heart?
“You wouldn’t understand,” she insisted. As much as they had in common, it ended when it came to their approach to relationships. Whereas she sought them, Ethan avoided them. “I really loved him, Eth. We had plans made. We’d picked out a new home, furniture even.” She blew her nose loudly.
“You picked out furniture together.” Ethan shook his head. “Do you hear yourself? That’s what your forties are for, Claire. Or at least your late-thirties.”
“You’re in your thirties,” she reminded him, drawing attention to their three-year age difference.
“And look at me. I’m on my second beer, I have a great job, a fantastic apartment, and I haven’t cried myself to sleep since I was eleven years old and my pet fish died. And my sisters still tease me over that. Why give yourself the aggravation? Why put you
rself through it?”
“Because there’s more to life than having fun,” she told him, her tears finally stopping as her exasperation grew. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, but nothing had changed since the last time they’d discussed it, back when she’d announced she would be moving to San Diego and Ethan had been less excited for her than she’d expected. “Don’t you feel empty with all these women floating in and out of your life? Wouldn’t you like to truly connect with a woman, share something with them?”
Ethan shrugged. “I connect with you. You’re all I need, babe.”
Claire tipped her chin, giving him a long, hard stare. “You know what I mean.”
The waitress reappeared with their drinks, once again lingering to give Ethan a slow, secret smile and doing a perfunctory job of handing over Claire’s cocktail without so much as a glance in her direction.
Ethan emptied his beer into a frosted glass. “The difference between you and me, Claire, is that you take life too seriously.”
She poked the ice cubes in her drink with her straw, watching them float around in the glass. Maybe she did take life too seriously. But what was so wrong with that?
“I got fired today,” she announced, and even though she’d told herself she hated that job, and even though she knew it was just a temporary thing anyway, her chin began to wobble just a bit.
Ethan’s expression immediately creased with concern. “What? Why? Wait. Don’t tell me it was because of—”
She closed her eyes. “I couldn’t help it. I got emotional. I tried to explain to Louis, but it seems that it being only my third day of work and all, I was still in the probationary period.” She shook her head. “I let that guy ruin my life twice.”
Ethan cocked an eyebrow. “I was afraid to say it, but yeah, you did.”
If they’d been sitting side by side, she would have swatted him for that comment, but instead, Claire buried her face in her hands. For a moment, the world went dark, and all there was were the sounds of voices, traffic two stories below, laughter from the table behind her. She dropped her hands and reached for her drink and took a long draw on the straw. She’d have to get a job, and soon. But she couldn’t worry about that tonight. It would defeat the point of coming here. She’d worry about it tomorrow. Lord knew she had time to do it.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she muttered.
“I know what you’re going to do.” A gleam had appeared in Ethan’s gaze. “Come to my cousin’s wedding with me. Next weekend. I need a date and you need a break.”
Claire brightened a bit. A break did sound nice . . .and she did love weddings. She had that lavender silk dress that she never had a chance to wear. “Where is it?”
“Door County,” he replied, referring to the lakeside resort town a few hours north of the city. “Grey Harbor, where I grew up. We’ll ride bikes on the beach, eat good food, get a little drunk. By the time we get back to the city, you won’t even remember who Matt is.”
Claire wasn’t so sure about that, but she did like the sounds of it, and it wasn’t like she had anything better to do.
“You’re sure you don’t want to bring a proper date?” she clarified. Ethan liked to have a good time, and she certainly wasn’t going to be entertaining him in that sense.
Ethan looked at her like she was half-crazy. “To a family event? No. Definitely no.”
Claire smiled for the first time all day. “Just checking.” She shrugged, seeing no reason to pass up such an attractive offer. “All right. I’m in.”
***
By the time she’d pecked Ethan on the cheek and they’d each hailed cabs travelling in opposite directions, Claire was feeling almost completely better. She settled herself against the leather seatback, wrinkling her nose at the overwhelming scent of pine air-freshener, and rolled down the window to bask in the glow that always followed a night out with Ethan.
“Where to, miss?” The cabbie’s brow arched in question in the rearview mirror, and, without thinking, Claire rattled off her address.
Her old address. The one she’d lived in before her world had been ripped out from under her. Or maybe until she’d thrown it all away. For a man. And a very undeserving one at that.
All at once, her good mood was spoiled, and the heavy weight of today’s events came rushing back, thudding in her gut and causing her breath to catch just a little.
“I mean, no. Lincoln Park, please,” she said, stammering on her words as she gave her cousin’s address instead. An address she may as well get used to, seeing as she wouldn’t be in a position to move out anytime soon now. Not unless another job came along. And she’d been lucky to find this one.
Claire leaned her head back and watched as the city whizzed by her. The air rushed against her face, cooling her cheeks, erasing the tipsy buzz she’d left the bar with and replacing it with muddled thoughts and murky memories of a day gone bad.
At the next red light, Claire searched the crowds for Matt’s face—something she hadn’t done in months, and now would have to break herself from doing, just like she’d had to force herself to stop staring at the pictures she’d kept from happier times. Hiking trips. Biking trips. Lazy Sundays on the beach.
She closed her eyes tight, but it was no use, his face was there, clearer than ever. She wondered if he’d proposed tonight. Or if he’d slipped the ring into his sock drawer instead, set aside for the weekend, or maybe a special occasion. She wondered if he had a plan. Something cheesy but still so romantic. She wondered if he’d ever planned on proposing to her.
“Miss? Miss?”
These thoughts were still swimming through her mind when she opened her eyes to see the cabbie frowning at her, the meter stopped, the engine a soft purr over the talk radio.
“Oh.” She fumbled through her handbag for her wallet and handed over a crisp bill, not bothering to ask for change, even though she’d overpaid. She just needed to get out of the car, upstairs, and into her bed.
But then, she no longer had a bed. She’d sold it to that cute red-haired girl who had just graduated from college, her life ahead of her, her eyes full of hope.
Her shoulders felt weary as she fished out her key and began the climb up the brownstone steps. She gritted her teeth, wondering how she would break the news, or if she could hold off for a few more days, maybe until she found another job.
Hailey was sitting on the couch in the living room watching television when Claire pushed open the door. When she spotted her, Hailey guiltily dropped her feet from the coffee table and stood up.
Claire kicked off her shoes, vowing to never wear them again, or at least not until they were properly vetted, and wondered idly if Louis would take her back if she begged him. Or bribed him. He had a thing for pocket squares, she’d noticed. And small dogs.
Her shoulders sank. It was no use.
“Don’t worry,” Claire said, waving away her cousin’s concern. “I’m not ready for bed yet.” Just the thought of more months on that pull-out made her lower back spasm.
Hailey hesitated, and then slowly resumed her spot on the couch. “I have to get to sleep soon anyway. I’m opening at the café tomorrow,” she explained. “There’s only ten minutes left to this show and I’m hooked. Have you seen this one before? These people are double agents, and—Oh! It’s back on.”
Claire felt uneasy, like a sudden charity case. Hailey was kind, and she claimed she was happy to give her a place to crash for as long as she needed one, but there no was no denying the twinkle that had caught her eye when just that morning—Imagine!—Claire had mentioned she’d be looking at apartments that weekend.
Claire groaned to herself. She’d have to cancel those appointments now. And the one had looked so promising from the photos—an iron balcony and everything! She’d imagined flower pots, and a little bistro table, and inviting Hailey and their friends Lila and Mary over for iced tea or wine . . .Now she’d be lucky to have a place before fall.
She’
d just have to ask Hailey if she could grab a few hours at the Corner Beanery again. Or maybe she’d see if Lila needed any administrative help at her advertising agency. Claire chewed her thumbnail. Last time she’d asked, Lila had winced and explained that they were fully staffed, but that she’d keep Claire in mind, of course. And Mary’s ice cream parlor was also complete. So, the café it was then. The thought depressed her. Even though she worked hard, she couldn’t help feeling that really, it should be her paying Hailey, not the other way around.
Claire stayed quiet as she padded across the room barefoot and sunk into the armchair near the window. She watched the last few minutes of the show impassively, understanding little and absorbing even less. When the credits finally rolled and Hailey gave a satisfied sigh, she took a big breath and announced, “I saw Matt today.”
Hailey’s eyes sprung open, her attention now fully pulled from the glowing screen. “You what? But, I thought he’d moved to California!”
Claire’s smile was grim. “Turns out he’s been here the entire time. Never left.”
Hailey blinked. “I’m confused. Where did you see him? What did he say? Are you okay?”
There was so much to discuss and so much she didn’t want to share, as much as she needed to say it, to have it out. She and Hailey told each other everything—always had, since they were five years old and their parents moved them into the same school district so that as only children they’d have family.
“I saw him at work. He was picking out a ring. He’s getting married. To a girl in Chicago. His ex, actually. I barely remember him ever mentioning her, yet it seems that he was always in love with her. And no, I’m not okay.” Her voice cracked, and before she could even start to cry, Hailey had leapt from the couch to wrap an arm over her shoulder.
“It’s going to be okay,” her cousin soothed, stroking her hair the way they’d done when they were little. The way she’d done when Claire’s mom had died. When Matt had left. It had brought more comfort to Claire than she’d known at the time, but looking back, she always shuddered to think what she might have done had she not had her cousin.